


Stay Here Beside You

by Lauralot



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bed-Wetting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Sexual Age Play, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 15:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16621274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/pseuds/Lauralot
Summary: Steve's still figuring out this whole parenting thing.





	Stay Here Beside You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhatEvenAmI](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatEvenAmI/gifts).



> A gift for [WhatEvenAmI](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatEvenAmI/pseuds/WhatEvenAmI), who asked if I could rewrite a portion of [_'Till the End of the Line_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2500715) from Steve's point of view.

“Bucky…”

If Steve had given it even a second of thought, he never would have said it.

He wouldn’t have touched Bucky either, but he just woke up soaked and confused and his brain only kicked in to remind him that waking Bucky was a Terrible Idea after it was already too late. And now Bucky’s huddling in on himself, pulling away from the hand Steve stupidly placed on his shoulder, and Steve’s getting colder and guiltier by the second.

He tries petting Bucky’s hair. That’s got to help, right? Make him feel loved no matter what? Unless Pierce used to play with his hair during his sick games, or pull it when he got angry—

Steve’s stomach churns at the thought, and he tries to distract himself, say something comforting. But his brain’s been stuck on one of two tracks pretty much as long as he’s known Bucky didn’t die in the Alps: either horrifically vivid imaginings of what his friend suffered, or disgust with himself for how he’s handling things. And now his mind’s back to the latter.

_You had to wake him up. He doesn’t sleep enough as it is, he finally felt safe enough to rest, and you wake him up? To_ this _? Like he isn’t miserable all the time anyway? Why couldn’t you have taken care of it without rousing him, why couldn’t you have put him first like you should have back in the war—_

“It was an accident.” Bucky’s voice cracks, and Steve’s chest aches. “I’m sorry, Daddy, I—I didn’t—”

“It’s okay, Bucky.” Steve’s lying through his teeth, stomach flipping again. Nothing about this is okay. It feels like only seconds ago that things were normal and Bucky was happy and like he used to be, and now he’s shaking and struggling not to cry. “I know, I’m not mad. You couldn’t help it.”

Bucky whimpers. He seems frozen in place, stiff as a board, and Steve forces himself into action, untangling his hand from Bucky’s hair and pulling the sheets back. The air of the room feels so cold now, like a slap to the skin, and Steve can see Bucky flinch.

“Here, let’s get you a bath.” It’s clear that Bucky’s not moving of his own accord any time soon, so Steve picks him up. “I’ll change the sheets while you’re in there.”

“But.” Bucky sounds so small. In the darkness, as curled in on himself as he can be in Steve’s arms, he even looks small. It’s like a fever dream; like they’re back in the 1930s, only now Bucky’s the frail one. Steve feels hulking, monstrous, _wrong._ “You’re still—”

“Don’t worry about me, Bucky.” Bucky’s done enough of that. Time for Steve to pull his thoughts away from his self-loathing and fix things. Start acting like the caretaker he promised Bucky he would be. Steve shoulders the bathroom door open, then hits the light switch with his elbow. “Just let me take care of you. Need me to get the water started?”

A torrent of thoughts floods Steve’s mind, unbidden and inexorable. _Say no please say no I can’t do this I can’t give you a bath I can’t do the things Pierce did, I need space, I need to breathe, I need to miss the person you were for a while, I can’t just pretend everything’s fine, I can’t—_

“Uh-uh,” Bucky mumbles, and Steve goes hot with shame. Bucky never asked for this. How dare Steve feel sorry for himself when Bucky must feel a thousand times worse?

“Okay.” Steve forces a smile. “Leave your clothes by the door and I’ll take care of them, all right? Everything’s fine, Bucky, I promise.”

The words feel hollow, and Steve can only hope Bucky believes them.

Stripping the sheets comes first. Bucky will be in the bathroom for a while—JARVIS says he always is after an accident—but Steve can’t chance losing himself to his thoughts in a shower of his own when Bucky could come back out and see the reminder on the mattress. Bucky hates himself enough already.

Steve should have asked Stark for the same protective sheets that Bucky has on his bed. He’s been struggling for weeks now to figure out how best to bring up the accidents without Bucky shutting down completely; how could he have failed to anticipate this?

_Because Bucky doesn’t feel safe in your bed anymore. Because you feel like a monster having him there, probably just waiting for you to rape him like Pierce._

But Bucky _had_ felt safe, just this once. And Steve’s ruined it because he was too selfishly happy to have his Bucky back to worry about what could happen when Bucky started to nod off. He was so thrilled that Bucky wasn’t afraid, and now look where they’ve ended up.

JARVIS quietly leads Steve through the steps to clean the mattress: towels, baking soda, vinegar and water, towels again, and more baking soda. The mattress is supposed to air dry, but Bucky might actually die if he comes out to see it stripped and damp, so Steve flips the mattress and covers it back up with a spare set of sheets. He can get a new mattress if this ruins it. Anything for Bucky.

The shower is running and the steam is so thick it’s seeping out under the door, and Steve manages to snag Bucky’s clothes from inside without alerting his friend to his presence. His clothes, and Steve’s, and the sheets all end up on a heap on the floor of Bucky’s bathroom, where Steve’s moved to wash up so that he’d be ready when Bucky needs him.

_You should have come up here to begin with,_ he chides himself. _You should have left without waking him when you realized what happened. Could have grabbed a spare set of clothes and hit the gym and pretended you were already gone when it happened. But you had to humiliate him. Again. Like he hasn’t had enough._

Steve shakes his head, water and shampoo stinging in his eyes. Bucky would have asked JARVIS if Steve had been there, he’s sure of that. And JARVIS probably can’t be programmed to lie, even white lies. And Bucky’s been manipulated enough, how can Steve even think of roping others in to lie to him?

He rubs at his eyes to clear them, and if he’s tearing up, it’s just from the soap. Steve doesn’t deserve to have a pity party after all Bucky’s been through. Especially after Steve’s just carelessly added to his self-loathing.

Steve’s gathering up the clothes and bedding to take to the laundry when he sees the bear on Bucky’s bed. Its glass eyes gleam in the dark, like it’s watching Steve. Judging him. _You promised you’d be what he needed. Why are you hiding up here?_

There’s a part of Steve that hates the bear. It felt like mockery when Stark gave him the damn thing, and then he had to give it to Bucky. It’s irrational, stupid, but Steve can’t help but wonder if Bucky never would have wanted him as a _daddy_ if he hadn’t given Bucky the bear.

But the conditioning would have been there regardless. And the bear was there for Bucky when Steve was too selfish to care for him. So Steve scoops the bear up, careful to keep it clear of the soiled linens, and heads to the washer.

Bucky’s still in the shower when Steve returns to his own floor. He places the Bucky Bear on the bed and tries not to pace. Bucky might be crying in there. What if he’s trying to drown himself? Steve slips a pair of Bucky’s pajamas into the bathroom, listening for any choking or gurgling. All he hears is the water.

He’s given into the urge to pace, and is wrestling with the urge to throw the door open and make sure Bucky’s still alive in there, when Bucky peaks his head out into the bedroom.

Steve’s never been more grateful for the serum than when he’s able to pick Bucky up. He holds Bucky close to his chest, crossing the room to the bed. Bucky’s _here_ and alive and warm and Steve tries to focus on that. Bucky’s here. That matters more than anything that’s changed.

“Are you sleepy?” he asks.

“Uh-uh,” Bucky mutters, even though he is. He’s always sleep-deprived. But Steve can’t force him to sleep, and he can’t blame him for not wanting to. Look at what happened when he just did. What would HYDRA have done if Bucky were still their slave? Did this happen when he was with HYDRA?

Steve’s chest aches again.

He places Bucky on the bed and hears a sniffle. His hands scramble for the bear, pressing it into Bucky’s arms. “It’s really okay, Bucky. We can figure it out later.”

“It’s not that.” Bucky ducks his head down, hiding his face against the bear he’s squeezing to his chest.

“What is it?” Steve’s petting Bucky’s hair again. He didn’t pull away the last time, so it can’t be a trigger, can it? Unless Bucky’s too afraid and programmed to jerk back. But if Steve pulls away now, Bucky will think Steve’s disgusted with him.

“I used to take care of you.”

He did. God, he did. And as soon as Steve saw his face behind that mask, he wanted nothing more than to sink into Bucky’s arms, cry on his shoulder. _Everyone’s gone, Buck, everyone’s_ dead _and Peggy doesn’t remember me half the time and everyone’s been lying to me from the second I woke up, and I can’t do this alone, Bucky, I need you._

But that’s not happening. And Bucky needs a shoulder to cry on so much more. “You did.” He puts his hand on Bucky’s chin, tilting his head so their eyes meet. He prays he looks convincing. “And that means it’s my turn to take care of you, don’t you think?”

Bucky shuts his eyes. “You used to need me.”

Steve acts on impulse, planting a kiss on Bucky’s forehead. It’s too much of a risk, and surely something Pierce must have done, but he’s been to Bucky’s therapy sessions. He knows the depth of Bucky’s self-hatred; he can’t let him think that Steve hates him too.

“I’ll always need you, Buck.” He squeezes Bucky’s hand; the bear is almost flattened between them. “You’re my best friend and nothing’s ever gonna change that. We’ll figure everything out, I promise. Understand?”

Bucky nods. Steve doesn’t know if he really believes it, but the exhaustion’s catching up and he ends up sinking onto the sheets beside Bucky regardless. Steve’s here. He’s not going anywhere. That has to help at least a little.

“Wanna watch a movie before breakfast?” It’ll help Bucky relax. Maybe he’ll even drift off again.

“Uh-huh.” Bucky presses up against him, his head under Steve’s chin. It’s sudden and awkward and perfect all at once.

“Sleeping Beauty?” Steve asks. He moves his hand to the nightstand, fumbling for the remote.

“Little Mermaid.”

Steve switches on the TV, the electronic hum filling the room. “Little Mermaid?”

“I like her fin,” Bucky says softly. His breath tickles against Steve’s throat. “And when she gets the prince out of the water.”

So he turns on _The Little Mermaid_ , hand wound in Bucky’s hair again. He holds him tight and tries not to see the parallels when the mermaid saves the prince from drowning. When a witch steals her voice and the prince doesn’t recognize her. The prince saves her in the end, and Steve has to believe that’s possible. Has to trust, for Bucky’s sake, that there’s a happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the "[Part of Your World](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Keal_UfT6o)" reprise from _The Little Mermaid._


End file.
